Call me fighter ✧ Slate

[Florabreeze]

Shadowing Sorrelsong was going really well, better then Flora had expected when she first started anyways. She didn't even scare away potential prey accidentally anymore. The impulse to do it on purpose still lingered but she was getting better at impulse control these days too.

Something that she hadn't really participated in with her mentor was fighting. She had gathered that she wasn't the biggest fan of it. Honestly, even if the warrior did offer it there would be hesitance on Flora's behalf. While she enjoyed acting like she was the smallest, daintiest lady who had ever walked around here she knew that she was quite large. It wasn't like she was the only large cat around here though, she understood that.

It was personal preference really, Flora would hate to practise fighting with someone who wasn't the same size as her. Even so, Sorrelsong just seemed so gentle? She didn't want to stress her out by having her try to enter a fighting mindset. The molly's solution was to try and outsource someone else to give her tips, or to physically practise with. She hadn't made up her mind on which to do yet and had decided that she would just take whatever she could get.

There were plenty of warriors she could ask about this, they all had to be decent at fighting to even be warriors right? Her mind drifted to that rather scruffy looking tom that she saw when she came to camp for the first time. He seemed pretty similar in build to her. Sure she hadn't physically measured herself against him or anything like that but he's also big, fluffy and they had similar ears! His ear was a bit mangled though, she wondered how that happened. He perpetually looked mad too in that one instance that she saw him. So there was a good chance she would get brushed off. Flora had decided that despite these potential issues that he was the best to ask about this, at the very least maybe she could place a name to the face if he rejected her request.

Her thoughts and theories about the lead warrior kept her entertained until she had stumbled across him. “Hey! Mr fresh-kill pile!” She called out before realising very quickly that maybe that wasn't the best way to start this. Seeing him stalking off to the fresh-kill pile when she entered camp that one time was the only indicator she actually had about him. So she decided that was going to be his name until she was told otherwise.

“I'm Flora” she paused for the briefest of seconds to figure out what she wanted to say from here. Once figuring out the rest of the sentence she proceeded to barrel through the rest of it. “I'm looking to figure out how this whole fighting thing works, I don't want to accidentally hurt anyone but I don't think that would be an issue with you. Could you help me out?”

@SLATE ​

 

[SLATE]

How was it, that the cats Slate wanted to avoid the most always ended up gravitating toward him? Nothing was appealing about him in the least, he could admit. He was not warm and inviting nor charming and humorous; most newcomers were met with a defensive snarl or a simple huff. So, what was it that drew one of SkyClan's newest additions over to him today?

Just as Slate was about to tell the other Maine Coon to bug someone else, she'd cut right to the chase — she wanted to learn how to fight, specifically from a burly tom like him. "Hmph." Well, at least the daylight warrior was right about one thing — she more than likely would not have to worry about hurting him. Even if she was a pretty sizable she-cat, she did not possess muscle forged by seasons of training.

Still, Slate was not her assigned mentor. He already had one headache of a she-cat to train; was he really going to subject himself to another? "I don't have all day," kittypet. He nearly calls her, then remembers how upset Orangestar was with him for the name-calling. Slate scowls and gives a quick shake of his head, slightly frustrated as he's never felt the need to restrain his speech before.

The lead warrior finally decided to yield to Flora's request, getting to his paws with a huff. "Fine. C'mon." The two large felines certainly would not be able to spar in the middle of camp. They would have to travel to the Sandy Ravine.

Once they had reached their destination, Slate stalked forward and turned around, facing Flora head-on. He plants his paws firmly onto the dusty ground before ordering, "Go on. Attack me." He narrows his eyes, ready to analyze her each and every move. This ought to be good...

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞

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• 

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  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[Florabreeze]

Hearing that he had accepted practically lit Flora up like she was the sun. A wide beaming grin never leaving her while they travelled to the Sandy Ravine. For a moment she thought to thank him, then realised that he still hadn’t introduced himself. He just agreed and kept going, no bother to her though she was perfectly content to keep calling him Mr. Fresh-Kill Pile until a proper title was given.

Flora would absolutely not call herself a fighter, it was not something that she liked doing. In her recent memory she had only gotten into a fight once and she loathed every moment of it. She stared at Slate in disbelief, attack him? how was she supposed to even do that?

“Okaay?” She started a slow lap around Mr. Fresh-Kill Pile, trying to figure out a good angle to approach this. It was mostly to buy her more thinking time, Flora figured it was good to look like she had a plan and spend that time thinking then just sitting there. In her not so impressive history of fighting exactly one time her opponent was a lot smaller than her. She was able to bowl them over and just use her size to her advantage, that didn't seem like a viable option here though.

The maine coon decided that she was thinking about it too much, it would just be better to lean into her impulses as she reached back to the spot where she started her lap. Flora surged towards the tom, shifting her direction to aim for his left side then suddenly switching her positioning to be aiming for the right side of him. It could be interpreted as an attempt at misdirection but it was rather Flora deciding at the last second she'd rather attack from the right of him. Trusting her impulses to guide her in what would be an appropriate attack she raised a sheathed paw in an attempt to strike the right of the lead warriors neck. The movement is clumsy and wider than necessary but there's force behind her paw, as much force as there could be for someone so untrained anyways.

She immediately stops after her attempt at striking him, lowering her paw and tucking her tail under her as she sat on her haunches. She wasn't sure how long she was supposed to be doing this and honestly it felt a little ridiculous to her to be doing this without a guide. She remained rooted in the spot she attacked from, not moving away from being too close in his personal space. The brief aura of seriousness and contemplation while figuring out her attack had dissipated to her usual relaxed self “now what?” ​

 

[SLATE]

The lead warrior remains planted, amber stare watching the other Maine Coon's moves but ultimately allowing her to have the first go. It was curious, to witness a large she-cat like Flora being so slow to decide her actions. She had weight on her bones that she could put to use and yet her potential remained untapped, sullied by a lifetime of being catered to by her masters and pampered beyond belief. A cat like Slate, however, depended on utilizing his size and brawn for survival from an early age.

It was not as if Slate expected Flora to exhibit any real skill, but he was rather gauging her current approach to fighting. Her shift of direction reveals a glimmer of promise at first, only to be smothered by her rather pathetic attempt at instigating a fight. A swift swing of her paw across his neck goes whack, making Slate wince slightly, though his stance is still unmoving. Then, she stops entirely. "Hm." The tom twitched a ripped ear. Admittedly, it was not a weak first hit, though it would sooner stun a kit or apprentice than it would a grown warrior. "In a real fight, make it count 'n use your claws — go for the eyes. Just hittin' me isn't gonna do nothin', 'specially against someone your same size." Slate advises Flora. He had taught this lesson to Cherrypaw long ago; he had sculpted her into a hard-hitter like him, a warrior who could overpower opponents with relative ease.

He readjusted his stance before offering gruffly, "You're a big cat. Use your strength. You gotta be forceful if you wanna win. This isn't nursery play." Slate narrows his eyes, instructing the brown tabby, "Launch yourself at me this time. Get me onto the ground." That should be clear enough, he figured. Could a kittypet like her shed her softness, if only for a moment's time, and channel her inner strength?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞

•  

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

  ​

​

 

[Florabreeze]

“Aim for the eyes, gotcha!” she repeated with an enthusiastic nod. Flora straightened her posture slightly, trying to make herself look a little more serious. His advice was understandable enough to take on board, no flowery language or technical words that she didn’t yet understand. Use strength and force, that could be learnt, she didn’t particularly like to do that but it wasn’t out of her capabilities.

It was understandable until his last instruction, get him onto the ground? She tilted her head at his instruction, looking the maine coon up and down. How am I supposed to do that? Flora’s maw formed into a frown as she assessed him, she wasn't too confident that she would be able to get him to the ground. It felt a little weird to her to not be confident in something, she had found that happened a lot lately since joining. That made sense of course, she was completely out of her depth. She wasn't going to improve if she didn't give a shot at things that she wasn't confident at though. Making up her mind she nodded to herself and stood up from her seated position.

Flora backed away from the burly tom. Once again trying to decide what would be the best plan from here, or at least look busy. She tried to use herself as a general rule of what would be the best strategy, since they had a somewhat similar stature apart from muscle mass anyways. Charging front on didn't seem like the smartest idea. His centre of gravity would probably counteract anything head on unless distracted, the tabby liked to try and be honest in social situations and she had decided that was going to reflect in how she fought as well. While it would be easy to play dirty and take advantage of that situation it just didn’t feel right. She walked to the right of him, if the goal was to get him onto the ground then using his own gravity against him would be best. After walking three paces to the right of him she pivots on her paws, digging them into the sand below. Taking a deep breath to try and gain some bravado she charged towards him, kicking up sand as she ran.

When she closed the distance to be only a couple of short steps between them she once again dug her paws into the sand. Pushing herself forward she propelled herself into a leap, gaining some air as she lunged. She was aiming to hit him in the middle of his flank; twisting her body so her shoulder was taking the brunt of the hit rather than her front paws. Hoping to use the strength of her shoulder compared to her paws for the advantage.​